EVENT REPORT – EASTERCON – LX2009 THE CEDAR COURT HOTEL, BRADFORD, 10-13^TH APRIL 2009.

The 60^th Eastercon and my 11^th, though it was my first convention for a few years, having had to miss a few for purely economic reasons and I almost didn’t make this one either. Unemployment seemed to ruin my chances of going, and then I got a job, so I booked, only to lose my job after nine months, due to redundancies. Without funds for a hotel, I was resigned to another year in the wilderness, but a few weeks before the events, my Mum surprised me by giving me the money to secure some accommodation. I was free to go along again, albeit on a limited budget.

In the past I have been to a con from the Thursday evening until the Tuesday. My Mum wasn’t able to afford to pay for so many nights away, so I had to reduce my time. The Thursday was out and I had a few errands arranged for the Friday already. There was also the factor of where I was staying. With the main convention venue being fully booked, I looked around online for Bradford Bed & Breakfast facilities and found the New Beehive Inn, which was in the city centre and within my Mum’s budget. Hauling luggage between there and the con hotel, The Cedar Court,

would also be problematic, especially on the Monday, so my Mum was happy for me to stay an extra night.

The Friday consisted of packing and preparing for an early departure on Saturday morning. I went through the online programme and highlighted key talks and workshops I would like to be involved in. There would be no costuming, or play participation, etc for me this year, due to the last minute nature of my attending at all. I packed most of what I needed the night before to enable a more relaxed departure.

SATURDAY 11^th APRIL

TRAVEL, ARRIVAL AND FIRST IMPRESSIONS

I got up at 7.30 am and headed out at 8.30 am, I walked to Dean Lane railway station, about ten minutes from home, and had about 20 minutes to wait for my train to Victoria. The Bradford service was due to leave within minutes on the platform directly opposite, so I stepped off one train and right on to the other.

I got to Bradford by 9.45. Bradford is a city I’ve been though and passed without staying in before. It struck me as a sprawling city, that seemed rather stretched out, with wide streets, roads and pavements as though the founders had simply found open countryside and built on it as an unlimited resource, rather than by putting property close together. It was as though the city had been raised while breathing out, and had then forgotten to breathe back in again.

As I was unable to check in to the New Beehive before 1 AM, I got a cab out to the Cedar Court. As I would see all weekend, Bradford has an excellent taxi service.

THE CEDAR COURT

Rather isolated and a little remote though not quite an Island as the Hinckley Hanover had been at some previous Eastercons. I could see that travelling to and from there would not be something I would manage on foot as I had hoped, so I knew taxis and the free shuttle-bus service organized by the con-committee would be essential for me.

The hotel had wide grounds and lay in the basin of a deep bowl-like valley. Traffic approached from behind and had to arc right round to find the entrance, and then spiral round the car park to the entrance, adding to taxi fares even negotiating the entrance system.

Stepping into the hotel through the automatic doors, I immediately saw lots of old friends, and there were only a few people waiting for the con registration, which was very quick. I sat down to go through the Read Me literature, which is essential as a guide to any SF con, giving programme details, hotel lay out information, etc.

I was soon greeted by Joel & Ethan, twin sons of Mark Slater & Elaine Coates, who told me with great enthusiasm all about ‘zombie turtles’. I thought at first that this had been a con event from the Friday, but it slowly dawned on me that it was a computer game that had captured their imaginations. Their Mum was kind enough to let me store my luggage in her hotel room until it could practically be moved to my own accommodation. I was now free to go to programme events.

ENTRY LEVEL CRITICISM

The first of the many panels I attended over the weekend dealt with the nature of SF reviews and criticism. There is a distinction, often lost on readers, and in some cases, on reviewers and critics alike between reviewing and criticising. A review is a means of giving an opinion on the worth of a film, book, product, to act as a way of helping readers of the review to decide whether or not to see the film, read the book etc. Critiques will tend to set a work under study in social context with other work in the genre, and analyse its importance and social commentary. Readers looking for a quick review of a book or film will often find a long detailed critique exasperating. Also, a critique will often engage in strong dialogue with the product, and give details of it away. Critics assessing the works of Shakespeare may well expect readers to be aware of the canon, while a critique of SF may still be introducing new readers to an author or some area of the genre.

A bad review will show a critic who may not have read the work, or sent he film, but bases the report on hearsay or someone else’s summary of the work. It may leave a reader unsure what was even being reviewed in the first place. One comment from the audience noted how a reviewer assessing a major work of critiquing in SF dismissed the book being assessed as pointless as readers should just read the books cited and judge them for themselves. Such a statement shows the way reviewers are often ignorant of the way critics will work. Panellists had mixed views on whether reviewers (not critics0 should use the start rating system in a review, but felt that if used it should be at the end of review and in sync with the views expressed by the reviewer, not independent of it, or doing the reviewers work in shorthand.

THE PROS AND CONS OF WRITER’S WORKSHOPS

For many writers, especially those just starting out, getting immediate feedback to work before trying to get it published is imperative. Creative writing workshops, available in many towns, and online, can be a very good place to get work judged, though a badly organized and run workshop can be counter-productive. There are two kinds. 1/. The ones where writers bring stories and poems to share with a group, who ten take turns sharing feedback to each piece presented. 2/. Groups where writing projects are undertaken to generate writing under the meeting’s time limits and the participants then assess the work created.

Egos can clash, and some criticism can be merciless enough to be off-putting. Some writers have problems accepting criticism too, blaming readers and listeners for failing to understand work read out and presented when the onus is on the author to make his or her point clearly. More attention could have been given to online writing groups here but otherwise it was a well-run thoughtful panel.

As someone who has been to many writing groups and workshops, I felt that such groups can be useful to writers but there is a tendency after a time to get dependent on the feedback they offer and to write material with just the group in mind rather than having a sense of a need for wider readership. After a time, I think writers need to stand up unassisted and work without such a group, though I am indebted in my own modest successes to the advice offered in my early writing years.

It was now time for me to go back into Bradford to book into my accommodation.

THE NEW BEEHIVE

The free shuttle bus lay on for the con ran at peak times, mornings and late evenings, so it was not on during the Saturday mid-afternoon. I got my luggage from Mark & Elaine’s and got a taxi from one hotel to the other. The New Beehive was not new at all, but an Edwardian coaching house, and very easy to find. Getting in was trickier. Initial notions of going in through the front door pub entrance with a large wheel-drawn suit-case got me some very sour looks from the lady on duty at both bar and reception. Guests were expected to come in round the back. No signs told me this. I was somehow just supposed to know.

The bar area looked terrific, with genuine gas lighting, and darkened wood panelling. There was some fine real ale on too, though I knew it was unlikely that I would get to drink at this hotel with so much activity going on at the Cedar Court.. More surprising were notices promoting various local bands as performing at the club – I would later discover their underlying entertainment venue. For now, I was guided to the hotel reception through a small labyrinth of fire doors, and quickly signed in. I was now led up a steep stairway to my room, which had a name instead of a number – I was in WARPING. – The rooms being named after parts of the cotton manufacturing process. It was not a reference to my state of mind or an SF space travel term.

The receptionist handed me the key and scuttled off rather than staying to see my incredulous reaction to my room once I’d entered. She had undoubtedly seen such disbelief before from other guests. The room was not small, but it was over-cluttered with mismatching outsized old-fashioned furniture. Both the creaky wardrobe and basic bathroom door could only be partly opened due to stuff piled round them. There was a giant armchair and what looked like a cross between a bureau and a roll top writing desk.

The ceiling was quite ugly, and long overdue for a lick of paint. Water damage had stained it in large patches that made it look as if previous occupants had thrown tea or coffee at it for days at a time. I found things eccentric, rather than a basis for any complaints. I was more cheesed off by a Bed & Breakfast facility charging extra for overnight guests wanting breakfasts. I was in a B & B minus one B. I decided it would be cheaper to get breakfasts elsewhere.

I dumped my luggage down, got changed and headed out to return to the Cedar Court. A ten to fifteen minute walk into the town centre showed me that I wasn’t located too far from either the train station, or the Midland Hotel, one of the official convention overspill facilities and a pick up point for the free shuttle bus. As that wasn’t due to operate for a few hours as yet, I got a Bradford public service bus to the Cedar Court The bus stop nearest to the hotel was right behind it; leaving me with a tricky road crossing and a walk round the hotel which could be saved with a footpath and a few steps. It was tempting to scramble down an embankment and jump off a high wall, but I walked round anyway.

OMAR KHAN’S

Friends had decided to dine out at a recommended Indian restaurant in Bradford, Omar Khan’s and I was invited to go along, A fleet of four taxis were booked and we sat drinking at the hotel, chatting and passing time until meal time. I also checked out the excellent art show and book dealer rooms. Bidding for art was not an option for me this year, though it was good to see so much fabulous work.

The book dealer’s room was also very impressive, and I was able to buy a few modestly priced titles and meet some leading small press publishers. A few recognised my name from my ravings on their Facebook pages too. I was also to acquire many free books over the course of the weekend.

Our taxis arrived and we went to Omar Khan’s. There were about twelve of us, including four children, and the staff proved to be very friendly & helpful. A few of us headed out looking for ATM machines, passing a broken one before finding a useable one, and Elaine Coates kindly offered to pay for my meal for me.

Most of us went for the excellent choices on the budget menu. I had quite a strong Chicken Madras, and rice, which was terrific. We returned to the Cedar Court by Taxi. Our driver took delight in pointing to his cab firm’s office – we were being transported by Elvis Taxis, provoking much amusement at thought of the un-dead singer radioing the drivers and directing cabs to Heartbreak Hotel on Lonely Street.

We had a few beers at the hotel, with the music from the live orchestra performance in the main performance room, Cedar (like many function rooms, it was named after a tree). The music, performed brilliantly by the National Festival Orchestra, came through loud and clear.

BAD SEX ON SF

There were still several organized events to go that night. One I particularly looked forward to be the reading of favourite bad sex writings SF books. My own writings include SF, fantasy, poetry, horror and erotica, with occasional work touching on more than one of the genres, so it was good to see how not to write by seeing and hearing some of the worst material ever to get published. Much of the material chosen by the panellists, and from books handed out around the audience, was from the publishers House Of Gord, and involved BDSM studies of subjugated women hooked up to bizarre machines designed to use the orgasm as a means to generate electricity, when the men didn’t take over from the apparatus for a while, or there would be tales of people who had relied on machines for sex, but who then discover the natural human method works best, at the hands (?) of an experienced sexpert, This better way invariably left the male characters in charge. We heard some work translated from Israeli SF porn work, with translator (Gall Golan) assuring the audience that she had purposely not addressed the bad grammar or prose at all. It would seem unlikely improvements could have been made short of total rewrites.

The panel were surprised that no one had brought along copies of the best known bad sex / SF writings, the Gor Books of John Norman – though someone was able to produce the delightful parody Houseplants Of Gor, - see the links below - through their cellphone menu, and that was read out to much amusement.

TRIVIA FOR CHOCOLATE

The last panel I went to on the Saturday was a fun quiz, Trivia For Chocolate, with questions set & presented to the audience by Colin Harris. Those who answered quickest with the right answer received chocolate, thrown to them with mixed success in aiming) by co-panellist, Flick. With so many fans present who know much more than I do, I wasn’t expecting to get any right, but I won about seven pieces of chocolate, and narrowly missed out on a few by others who got the answers out first. The rapid fire (questions and Flick-ed chocolate) format went through two boxes of chocs, and the event was tremendously entertaining.

RETURN TO THE BEEHIVE

After a few more beers with friends I got a taxi and headed back to my hotel / motel / guesthouse / B & not-B Hell. I can’t say I was surprised to find the front door locked and the place in darkness. I knew that there was a back way in, but finding that closed too was a little more disconcerting. Loud rumbling noises and drumbeats came from the cellar regions though, and that was when I found the nightclub that made the Beehive one of Bradford’s leading nightlife venues.

I cut through the club, ignored by the boncers, if there were still any present, as the main entertainment had ended. A band had been on and equipment was being unplugged and taken away. There were people staring at me through the murkiness (nit just the lighting). For all the hotel’s wide range of real ales the staple drink here was clearly cheap lager. I felt like I had stumbled into a Morlock nest. Someone pointed at me and shouted ‘Oi, Gandalf’ though quite which version of the story depicts the great wizard as an overweight balding Alan Ginsberg lookalike is lost on me. A barman showed me the door that led through to the hotel and I escaped to the light quickly. I went to bed and wondered what delights Easter Sunday would bring me.

SUNDAY 12^th APRIL

I got up about 8 AM, struggled with the shower, in a cubicle that was half the width of a phone box, with sliding doors designed by someone who found a Rubic Cube too slight a challenge. I found out that the shower on/off button only operated if a pull-cord switch that was outside the cube, and on the opposite side of the bathroom was already on. Iv opened the doors again, pulled the cord, rushed back to stop the eruption of water that was now spraying against the ceiling, having inadvertently left the shower button on, and finally struggled to move the water between Icelandic cold and the contents of Mount Etna. I finally just about managed to get more than just wet.

Dried and dressed, I walked to the Hilton, and joined other fans waiting for the free convention bus, which arrived on time.

At the Cedar Court, I grabbed a sandwich from the bar, and headed to the first chosen presentation of the day.

HOW MOVIES & TV GET THIR MARTIAL ARTS WRONG (ON PURPOSE)

This was an exceptional event. Al Davison didn’t just talk about martial arts, but also demonstrated his own formidable skills as a fully trained expert in the field. Though in a wheelchair, he proved able to demonstrate that he would be far from harmless if attacked, by throwing his assistant (himself a martial arts expert) around the room, which a few of us had happily helped move furniture for just before the demonstration began.

On the movies, Al showed that as well as some just plain bad wire-work, many Martial arts movies deliberately avoid using some of the deadlier martial arts moves so as not to have people watch and learn how to kill by making contact with the right pressure points. A case in point is the Kill Bill 2 death of Bill sequence, as the technique used to stop his heart can be done, though it is deliberately fluffed in the film presentation. The makers would not want fans to show of and imitate what they saw for obvious reasons.

Al went through the rather sad histories of how Hollywood has treated several leading Martial arts stars. Bruce Lee rarely used the full range of choreographed battle tactics he displayed on screen in his real fights (of which he had many). He would often end a fight quickly with a basic foot to shin move, or a short punch (where the fist is thrust forward from mere inches away from the opponent’s chest).

Jackie Chan fared badly in the States, where he was invited due to perception of his extreme stunt-work and how he was able to get a whole team working around him. However, once he arrived, the insurance men of LA restricted what he could do on safety grounds, and often ruled out a whole range of stunts, greatly limiting what he could do in films such as the Rush Hour movies. Chan eventually went home in some frustration.

Jet Li suffered equally badly, finding that the Chinese approach of filming a whole battle with several actors and stunt men in a single take was giving way to a tendency to film in fragments of a few moves at a time, with several hours of repositioning cameras between takes. In the frustrating waiting periods between shoots he was persuaded into taking up smoking, which affected his health and left him out of shape for doing much of the work he did best. He was eventually knocked into shape again when he left America to make some films in France.

Al had little regard for Stephen Segal, who often used stuntmen to make moves that would be impossible for a man of his build to perform with sufficient agility. He also had few good things to say about David Carradine, who’s slow motion fighting in the Kung Fu TV series was not done for stylish reasons, but because it was the only way the actor could do the fights. Many of the fights there were not slowed down footage – the actors were actually moving that slowly and being filmed in real time.

TWITTER – EGO BOOSTING OR INFORMATION BUSTING?

This was an unusual panel, and one that the presenters had to struggle with some passion to have included in the programme, as it wasn’t strictly SF – more about how members feel about and exploit the new technology and social networking that is Twitter.

The plan seems to have been to have the Con Tech team set up a Twitter screen enabling attendees to send tweets during the panel item, and some audience members were tweeting during the event.

As a passionate Twitterer (and twit) myself (see http://twitter.com/arthurchappell) I was very happy to see this presentation, and it was clear that Twitter less enthralled by social networking, and some Con-goers in particular. My only gripe is with its limitations on how many people users are allowed to follow. Others feel strongly that the network ruins direct communication, and that the service is doomed due to its lack of advertising. If it takes on ads, twitter risks losing its subscribers. Without ads, the owners make little money and risk being over-taken by their competitors, such as Facebook, though many prefer Twitter to Facebook as on Twitter, people don’t play trivial games and throw sheep at one another. This is a debate that is likely to run and run, and definitely needs more attention at future conventions. Its value to fandom is unprecedented – we can send out instant reviews, use the 140 character limitations as an art form for brief telling messages and statements, as opposed to using it as a sales pitch (anyone doing that can quickly be blocked out or unfollowed). The use of Hashtags (#) as markers for keeping track of tweets was also discussed in some detail as one of the great innovations of twittering.

An example of one of my recent Tweets - Thinking about #Watchmen, how long would The Comedian last with his act as a stand up at The Frog & Bucket comedy club? Lol!

PACIFISM & NON-VIOLENCE IN SF

A very interesting presentation on a rarely discussed aspect of the genre. It was appropriate that this discussion took place in Bradford, site of the only UK University offering an MA course in Peace Studies. Two panellists in this discussion are committed Quakers.

Given that much fantasy and SF is set in wartime, as big action packed battles and fighting make a book exciting, use of pacifists and peace-activists is extremely rare in the genre. True, some books addressing warfare have a powerful humanitarian anti-war theme, showing how terrible war is in the bloodshed and consequences – we see that best in Haldeman’s The Forever War. Relatively few examples of actual pacifist protagonists were available to us – There is a Pacifist in David Brin’s The Postman, a character totally dropped from the film version (though sadly the Kevin Kostner film wasn’t dropped in its entirety too). In Terry Pratchett’s Jingo, a war is stopped when the police arrest the armies to keep the peace. In Barry Longyear’s Enemy Mine, a man is marooned on an alien planet with the alien enemy and they have to make peace to work together for their mutual survival. A few other examples arose in the discussion, but it is a surprisingly uncharted area for many SF & fantasy authors.

Since the convention I have discovered evidence of an Arthur C. Clarke short story from 1966, called The Pacifist, in which a war-strategy planning computer is reprogrammed to become a pacifist.

BLOW THINGS UP

There have been many conventions at which chemical and science experiments in creating controlled loud but relatively safe explanations have thrilled the attendees, and many expected this event to be just as spectacular, with a promise of audience participation in the V For Vendetta destruction of the Houses Of Parliament, set to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture finale.

V masks (mostly paper ones) were given out and the audience at one side of the Cedar room were advised to move back or to the right to avoid getting covered in gunge. A clip from V for Vendetta was shown – the early destruction of the Old Bailey sequence. We were then given a small-scale science display of various explosive materials, including gunpowder, though these were not triggered. V now appeared in person, (a presenter in full V garb and a plastic face mask), and prepared to have us join in the now interactive destruction of the Houses Of parliament. As the film footage ran, and the people of London don their V masks, we put ours on. Dead V went on his last train ride to carry the explosives under Big Ben on the screen, while our live V watched a toy train set roll towards a man wearing a Big Ben model made from a 3d Jigsaw puzzle. The explosive mixtures made by our science expert were used to fall a balloon, which looked as if it ought to burst (presumably providing the explosion effect and ganging that had been indicated). In fact, the only explosions were those on the screen – something appeared to have not quite gone to plan. The chap in the Big Ben mask disassembled it to make the bits crumble as the onscreen Parliament exploded to the cannon crescendos. As the onscreen masks were cast aside in celebration of the new Guy Fawkes, we threw ours aside too – A fascinating experiment that didn’t quite go according to plan – the kaboom and ganging didn’t happen, but there was a strong sense of the interaction of being part of the anarchic crowd along with V. I still felt glad to have been there.

I dined with con friends at the Cedar Tree restaurant, which provided excellent good financial value food, accompanied by the droning music of Whitney Houston. It was then time for more beer, followed by one of the con’s keynote evening entertainments – Drama. .

PLAY – INSIDEOUS

David Wake’s plays are always a convention highlight. I have had the privilege of being modestly involved in some of his comedy productions, such as Captain Tartan Saves The World – Again, and One Minute Past Eight, A Sunday Odyssey.

At a previous convention which I was unable to attend, Dave came up with a major innovation – Instead of a fandom gag-fest – he wanted to present a serious SF themed dramatic production – called Invegle. The play was a great success, and the new production, Insidious, was a direct sequel.

The stage, an L shaped series of platforms representing rooms and corridors in a secure prison / hospital / mental institution, was quite an effective minimalist set up. Doorframes represented entrances and exits. A few chairs and tables were the only other main props. Lighting and sound effects created the often very tense, and scary mood of the piece, which depended on careful timing in the speech and pause patterns of delivery for the actors. This was a very Pinteresque play.

Central to the story was Molly (Dawn Abigail) a telepathic survivor from the first play, now trapped in the institution and forced to wear a straightjacket in her private cell. Entrance for the nurses and hospital staff is through a door where warning signals tell them to wear earmuffs and take security measures, given Molly’s ability to kill with the right whispered memes. The balance between telepathy and the audio-hallucination effects of some forms of schizophrenia are well explored.

With other telepaths infiltrating the institution, with their own agenda for Molly, the security precautions break down, and the death toll rises. Much of the play is delivered by off-stage voices, (the actors projecting from the wings) and some performances were electrifying, especially those of Dawn in the lead role, and Caroline (Cal) Loveridge & Clare Goodall. Given that last minute script changes and some cast members being unable to attend meant some roles and scenes needed extending. The cast and production crew made everything work seamlessly. A third play in the series seems very likely. Not having seen part one was a little bit disadvantageous, but I was quickly able to work out what was going on.

I spent the remainder of the night chatting to friends and socializing in the bar, before returning to The New Beehive by taxi. Mercifully, the club was closed and the back door fire-exit to the hotel was open, though a night manager saw me and jumped out at me as if I was an intruder, until I told him I was a guest, at which point he took my word for it (without having seen me before or asking for any proof), and I went straight to my room, as easily as I could have done if I had been an intruder. I was asleep by about 2 AM.

MONDAY 13^th APRIL

I rose at 8 AM for the last day of the convention, and after struggling with the shower unit from Hell (though I was more in control now), I was ready to head to the Cedar Court. Once again, I travelled by the free bus, from the Midland, and got my breakfast at the convention hotel’s bar.

AGENTS & EDITORS AND GETTING PUBLISHED

A panel on agents and how to seek publication for SF writers can never be unimportant at a con like this, and John Berlyne runs an agency that is very keen to look after new SF & fantasy authors. Much of the emphasis here was on making sure that the work to be promoted is completed, rather than a work in progress, - too many would be authors send in sample chapters for incomplete work that can often remain indefinitely incomplete, despite a publisher or agent’s deadlines. Some publishers seek only electronic submissions, while others insist on print copies only and it is vital that authors follow their instructions. Too many authors don’t research what the publishers and agents want, though such information is usually freely available and easily accessible.

Panellist, Kari told of an author sending references and recommendations from various friends on the lines of how marvellous the author was, though it was clear that the accolades were simply repeats set out badly by the author hoping to gain attention – suffice to say the plan was unsuccessful. The more gimmicky the methods used to approach a publisher, the less likely it is that the actual manuscript will have any real value.

HOW TO PLOT A NOVEL

With my primarily interest being in attending events relating to the art of writing, I often don’t go to the main Guest Of Honour events at Eastercons, even when the Guests are such luminaries as John Courtmey Grimwood & Tim Powers. The latter, as well as his main GoH presentation, ran this presentation on how he prepares his novels from initial idea to completion. It is rarely a linear process for him, as he moves from snatches of conversation between characters, to working out how some aspects of their lives came about, and proceeds through the work, setting out ideas in an ever changing order. He compared the process to that of preparing a major real, knowing which dishes to serve in which order and at what times – not giving too much away too soon. He emphasised the importance of getting ideas down on paper before losing the idea forever, though not trying to write them down while driving, or doing something else requiring concentration. A clever, witty, thoughtful talk, with a very friendly series of responses to attendees in the Q & A approach adopted.

PUNCH & JUDY FOR ADULTS

A genuine Punch & Judy Show, preceded by a talk through of the art & craft of the Punch & Judy Man. Contrary to popular thought, the tradition is far from dead, and there are over 150 performers in seaside towns (mostly on the South Coast), and many perform at various pageants, stately homes and children’s parties. Mr. Punch has a strong SF association, through V For Vendetta, with the hero masked in a Mr. Punch Guy Fawkes mask throughout.

Our jovial host talked through Mr. Punch’s history, from the bit parts he played between more serious medieval dramas, his evolution from the Punchinello character, his emerging glorious political incorrectness, etc. He introduced us to the wide range of characters used in many Punch & Judy shows, including the regulars such as Punch, Judy & the Baby, to lesser figures such as The Minstrel, (which he often can’t use due to political correctness rules, especially if performing in the States), the Beadle (often replaced by a modern looking court judge), The clown, traditionally called Joey, after Joe Grimaldi, the most famous of all clowns), and the Devil, as well as the children’s favourite, The Crocodile, imported as an unlikely addition to the cast by puppeteers as tales of African exploration captured the Victorian imagination. Another trend is that of making the jokes topical and even introducing puppet versions of contemporary characters. JR Ewing, from Dallas, has sometimes replaced the Devil and we were to see a boxing match between Rocky Balboa & B.A. Barrachas from the A-Team (the actors of course, Mr T, & Sylvester Stallone, having fought in the film Rocky Three). The Hangman is modelled on Jack Ketch, the famous executioner from the Tower Of London, and the puppeteer who performed for us had been invited to do a show there to commemorate Ketch’s life and times, but the Tower had expected him to perform for free, and for the publicity alone, which he understandably refused to do.

Not all characters appear in every Punch & Judy Show, as some cameos will be given more attention than others. The show we got was a lightning dash through each of the personas, with lots of the traditional ‘pantomime audience participation touches, ‘He’s behind you’ ‘Oh Yes it is, Oh, no it’s not, and of course, ‘That’s the way To do it’, included.

We were told about the voice changing Swazzle, but not shown one, as it is a guarded secret among Punch & Judy men. Our presenter did tell us in gleeful gory detail however how easy it is to leave one filled with spittle during its use and how often he has swallowed one, and have to wait for it to come out the other end. He noted that there is only one recorded case of someone choking to death on a swazzle.

The show itself was a delight, as Punch & Judy always is to adults as to children (a junior version of the talk was given earlier in the day, while the play itself was probably the same for both audiences). The story is well known. Punch, left minding the baby by Judy, beats it up and throws it down the stairs, possibly to death, (though usually the drama today refers to only the victims being knocked out or beaten, rather than actually killed). Various visitors arrives, and Punch treats them to a similar fate, piling up the bodies (of the unconscious, naturally), Only Joey The Clown seems able to better Punch, who eventually comes to the attention of the authorities and tricks the hangman into hanging himself. Punch loses Joey’s dinner, the sausages to the crocodile, and has a tough time convincing the clown that he is telling the truth. Punch is also haunted by a ghost, traditionally Judy’s ghost, as she is also the killer’s victim, though modern performers don’t spell that detail out too often. The Devil then appears to snatch Punch away for his immoral credence to life and all, which is the moral point of the story. The clown now appears, to present the closing contemporary entertainment, in this case, the boxing match, before Punch finally reappears to say goodbye.

Goodbyes were soon on for me too, as the convention was coming to its conclusion for another year.

THE CLOSING CEREMONY

Here was the elected organizing committee’s chance to say goodbye to the guests of honour and to offer a huge and sincere thank you on behalf of everyone to the various people, from gophers, to hotel staff, who worked tirelessly and made the convention go so well, and we applauded so much that my hands ached afterwards, but it was all worthwhile, and had everyone deserving been thanked personally, we might still be there as you read this. The Committee jokingly assured anyone missed out that drinks would be bought, and there were raffles and a few awards given out. Kari’s genuine surprise when she was singled out for an award for services to fandom was beautiful to see, and no one there could doubt that she deserved the accolade.

There were lots of events I wish I had seen, especially those from the Friday, or which were double booked with those I did get to enjoy. Mark Slater’s video and film presentations sounded fascinating, and some were in 3D. with silent films given live accompaniment, etc. Many fans watched the Dr. Who screening as it went out on the BBC, while I chose to watch it back at home after the con. ‘Wasn’t that great’ comments from people who had been to events I missed made me wish I could have been everywhere at once, and that is how it should be – attendees were seriously spoilt for choice and quality all weekend.

THE LAST NIGHT

There was a quiet and pleasant relaxed bar for those staying late or for the extra night, sometimes called Dead Dog, and a few extra guest real ales were specially laid on. I was playing a scrabble-like word game with friends for a while, and lost twice.

There was a short and very funny auction run by the committee to offload various materials, props and goodies that they didn’t need any more – all the money from the con goes to deserving lifeboat and cancer research charities. Goods sold off, often very cheaply, included large rolls of bubble rap, bottles of glue, cell-phones, the model of Big Ben from the BLOW THINGS UP event, key rings, Frisbees, slinkies, and much more.

There was lots of hugging, kissing, hand shaking etc, as people headed off, to bed or home, and I left by taxi as exhaustion and alcohol took their toll at about 1.30 AM. It was foggy out. The weather had been cold but dry all weekend.

My taxi dropped me off at the Beehive, which was closed and locked up tight. The back door was closed and locked. My keys should have opened it, but couldn’t. I knocked up the man left in charge who seemed to think no one was staying that night and though pleasant enough, seemed rather unhappy that I was out so late. I dropped hints about the unexpected curfew rules for 47 year olds, and headed for bed.

TUESDAY 14^th APRIL

I got up at 8 am, packed quickly, and discovered with some sadness that I had somehow mislaid my notebook with all the details of the con events I had attended. Though there was much that I can recall, some details and references are lost now. It’s most likely I had left it at the Cedar Court some time during Dead Dog. Ke Sera.

I hauled my luggage downstairs ready to check out, to find out that no staff had bothered to get up or come to work, bar a bemused looking cleaning lady. I gave her the room keys and left, walking with my pull-along luggage towards the train station, grabbing a relaxed breakfast at a branch of Subway on route.

The train departure was minutes away, at 9 AM, joining with my connection for the local service which was also due to go soon after I got to the station, (Manchester Victoria) and I had a relaxed ride home, reading away as I travelled. I was home by about 10.30 AM.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There are lots of folk who need thanking. My Mum’s assistance with the cost of the hotel speaks for itself. Love ya Mum xx. Elaine Coates was very helpful throughout the con, as were many of my FONT friends, and many others. The Con Committee, the gophers, events presenters, panellists, etc, were all superb. Lots of people offered me, food, chocolate, sweets and beer throughout the weekend. There was generosity everywhere. My friends from Manchester’s FONT science Fiction Society were all also to prove invaluably kind and helpful all weekend.

LINKS

The LX2009 Eastercon website http://lx2009.com/

The Odyssey 2010 Eastercon website http://www.odyssey2010.org/

EASTERCON on Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastercon

The Eastercon website http://www.eastercon.org/index.php/Main_Page

FONT – The Manchester Science Fiction Society. http://arthurchappell.me.uk/manchester.font.science.fiction.group.htm

PAGES RELATING TO SOME OF THE PROGRAME EVENTS

THE HOUSE OF GORD http://www.gordbooks.com/home.php

HOUSEPLANTS OF GOR http://www.rdrop.com/~wyvern/data/houseplants.html

MY WEB PAGES ABOUT TWITTER - http://arthurchappell.me.uk/my.twitter.pages.htm

PACIFISM AND FANTASY GAME PLAYING BLOG - http://notfrisco2.com/camassiablog/?p=449

THE PUNCH & JUDY FELLOWSHIP http://www.punchandjudyfellowship.org.uk/